


Death Wishes

by PierceTheVeils



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels, Star Wars: Thrawn Series - Timothy Zahn (2017)
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Established Relationship, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Inheritance, Not like the Empire knows, Or whatever the fuck the purrgils did with Thrawn, Post-Book: Star Wars: Thrawn Series: Treason, Post-Star Wars: Rebels, Revenge Declarations, Will Reading, discussions of art
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:33:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24853141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PierceTheVeils/pseuds/PierceTheVeils
Summary: After the Empire declares Thrawn a casualty in the Battle of Lothal, an attorney visits Karyn Faro to discuss the late grand admiral's estate.
Relationships: Karyn Faro/Thrawn | Mitth'raw'nuruodo
Comments: 18
Kudos: 31





	Death Wishes

Admiral Karyn Faro had just retired from her shift when she heard the news. The Imperial confrontation on Lothal... had failed. 

No, not failed. “Failed” was an understatement. Even reading the report, Faro struggled to understand how things could have gone so wrong. Imperial presence on Lothal had been  _ decimated, _ smashed to bits beyond repair by a single cell of rebels. 

How did this happen? The last time Faro had been stationed above Lothal, the Empire had the planet secure and the rebel leader in custody. Then the Emperor had called the  _ Chimaera _ away on an errand that (as missions with Thrawn do) rapidly spiraled out of proportion. Faro’s role in said errand ended when she received a long awaited promotion: command of not a task force as she’d expected, but an entire fleet. She’d departed the  _ Chimaera  _ and received an elevated rank in short order. 

Consumed by her new obligations to the Eleventh Fleet, Faro had stopped following Lothal’s situation so closely. Sure, Faro knew conditions had deteriorated in the  _ Chimaera’s  _ absence. She’d heard from Thrawn that General Pryce’s incompetence had set General Syndulla free and razed the planet’s fuel depot. His frustration had been clear, but Faro had believed Thrawn could retake control. When had he not? She told him as much at the time.

The Seventh Fleet had the planet blockaded. The group of rebels were small, if crafty. They received no assistance from others in the rebel fleet and had lost their senior Jedi. The thought that this confrontation would end in anything but Imperial victory seemed almost laughable to consider.

Maybe that’d been the problem. If Thrawn saw a battle as a challenge, he could think through and implement a winning strategy any number of ways. But frustrated with the loss of his TIE Defender project, furious with Governor Pryce for her numerous failures, and grief-stricken (though he’d deny it) with the death of a longtime ally in Rukh, Thrawn may have taken his apparent advantage as a sign he would not be challenged. He’d neglected to maintain flexibility in battle… unlike the rebels. 

The rebels used their lack of space presence to their advantage. Insane as it sounded, the insurgents intentionally sought out lifesaving battle assistance from a horde of space beasts. As she understood it, dozens of hungry purrgil had descended on the fleet from hyperspace, tearing Seventh Fleet ships to pieces in search of the fuel they craved. As purrgil ripped through Star Destroyers and debris toppled into Lothal’s atmosphere, Faro could only pray the molten parts landed on rebels’ heads. She hoped the remains scorched farmland, cratered cities, and rendered space travel deadly. She hoped Lothal paid for the constant trouble they’d been to the Empire. For the lives they’d taken from the galaxy. For the death of the greatest strategist to ever roam the stars.

Faro could only assume her wishes had come true. Following the battle, the Empire declared its assets on Lothal worthless and its liabilities untenable. The Outer Rim backwater had nothing left of use to the Empire and was to be abandoned to a state of perpetual unrest. Small consolation for the loss of a magnificent fleet.

Faro put a hand to the wall of her admiral’s quarters. Whoever thought all Star Destroyers of the same model were identical had clearly never been stationed on one. It’d been years since Faro had transferred ships. She hadn’t been prepared for the minor quirks she encountered on the bridge, the sense of unfamiliarity she met each time she rounded a corner. The halls of her flagship weren’t home yet. Right now, Faro’s home was still the  _ Chimaera _ . All several hundred pieces of it.

Her breath caught in her throat. Faro laid a hand on her neck, trying to force it out. No air came. Was this what Lord Vader’s chokehold felt like? Like your entire body was refusing to release air because it had already lost so much?

She stood in place, frozen to her spot by the holo display. Images from Lothal still played, but the light no longer penetrated her eyes. Faro had seen enough. Her hand jerked over the display, ending the projection with a slap. She could have stood in place for hours had no one disturbed her. 

Alas, someone did. Faro accepted the holocall without a conscious thought. She straightened to attention before speaking. “This is Admiral Faro of the Eleventh Fleet.”

On her projector was a squarish old man with round glasses and a datapad. “Yes, thank you. This is probate attorney Monfred Grimes. I represent the interests of the late Grand Admiral Thrawn. Are you aware that Grand Admiral Thrawn has been recently confirmed deceased by Imperial battle records? He is recorded as being a casualty of the recent battle over Lothal.”

A probate attorney? That was fast. Faro nodded, outwardly showing no signs of emotion. “I am aware.”

“Yes, well. The grand admiral’s affairs were quite tidy even before his death. The man expressed no wish for a funeral or memorial. His body cannot be recovered in present circumstances. His will and testament were drafted years back and revised but a few months ago. At the time of his passing, Grand Admiral Thrawn was in no debt, he claimed no relatives or family members, had no spouse or child, and held no assets in his name that are not accounted for by this document. You are the second person to whom I am presenting this will. Are you ready to hear its contents, Admiral Faro?”

Thrawn had a will? Oh who was Faro kidding, of course he had a will. That man had a plan for everything. Still, she could only imagine this as his ultimate fallback. Thrawn’s last resort, if she would. “Why am I being presented with his will?”

“That shall become clear in a moment, Admiral. The short answer is that his will specifically calls for it. I am to read you the section that he has deemed relevant to you in its entirety, then list the items you are to receive from his estate. Are you ready to begin?”

Thrawn wanted her to hear it? Faro pursed her lips, nodding. In all her years, Faro had never once succeeded at refusing Thrawn’s wishes. “If it is what the grand admiral desired, I will listen.”

“Very well.” Grimes cleared his throat, swiped a few times on his datapad, then began to read from the device. He delivered each word in dispassionate monotone. “‘And to Commodore Karyn Faro, should she be so fortunate as to not also perish in whatever incident has ensured my demise, I leave this message: whatever my failure, learn from it. Study it. Do not repress the incident in your mind, for to repress an instance of failure is to repeat it. You and I have always been similar in our stratagems. Whatever pain it brings you to learn of my passing, use what you learn to spare yourself a similar fate. No matter your grief, do not relinquish your will to fight. I bid you fight on for as long as you are able, for there is no better path for which a warrior of your merit may walk. 

“‘The Empire undervalues you as captain of my flagship. Their claims of promoting you to a mere taskforce are a pittance. It is for that reason I reject them. Yet at the time of drafting this will, I currently benefit from the injustice against you, just as I once benefitted from the injustice of tying the ex-commander Vanto’s fate to my own. You are a peer to me, whatever our ranks may suggest. I wish that by the time this document finds you that you will command a fleet of your own. You have proven several times over that you are more than capable of such a task. If you are not yet in a comparable post, I would hope the Empire considers you when choosing my replacement for commander of the Seventh Fleet. I have recommended as much in other writings.

“‘In terms of material possessions, I leave you fifty percent of my money. The other half is Eli Vanto’s... or his family’s, should the Empire not be able to reach the ex-commander himself.’” Grimes paused at that remark, turning up to face Faro. “Actually, it’s all his money. I previously spoke to Eli Vanto’s father. He refused to accept anything the grand admiral left them because he, and I quote, ‘ruined my son’s life before ending it in secret’. Now, I don’t think that’s any reason to turn down millions, but the Lysatran gentleman was quite forceful on the subject.”

Wait, what? “Mr. Grimes, exactly how much money did Grand Admiral Thrawn own at his time of death?” 

“Three million eight thousand nine hundred and forty one credits across all accounts. That includes credits in the bank and earnings he’s made on stock in his portfolio of defense and mining corporations, but excludes the stocks themselves and the value of his art collection… which he also leaves to you in its entirety. Equities were once split between you and Vanto, but again, the father refused. Art was always one hundred percent for you. Allow me to read:

“‘Any and all art pieces I claim legal ownership of at my time of passing, I also leave to you, Karyn Faro. You are the only Imperial soldier I have ever known to be capable of analyzing art as I do. Both your skills and appreciation have improved greatly since the day we met. May your understanding grow ever greater, just as the’ um… ‘the depths of your eyes grow ever deeper as you gaze at the intricacy contained within a frame.’”

Thrawn’s praise stung. Studying art… Faro had done it for him. She’d thought the practice was worthless at first. Her skepticism still reared its head at times. Faro’s skill at interpreting art would never match his. 

It was easy for Faro to imagine Thrawn saying these words to her in private, yet the dull tones of Grimes’s voice were ever present to remind her otherwise. “Evaluations of the grand admiral’s estate indicate a sharp reduction in the man’s private art collection following the end of the _ISD Chimaera’s_ service... as if there could be any other result from storing precious art on a warship.” Grimes shook his head. “In the case of those pieces, you are entitled to the insurance claims, whatever their current valuation. You will have to discuss the subject of worth with Grand Admiral Thrawn’s art brokers and insurance company. 

“The remaining pieces are stored within the grand admiral’s private property on Coruscant. If you are unable to examine the pieces in person, you should be able to recall their images by holo. A digital archive has been attached to the will for deliverance to your person. It even comes with suggested viewing arrangements for your quarters.” Grimes’s lips twitched at the thought.

Faro glared. A probate attorney ought to be used to dealing with the wishes of dead people. For Grimes to laugh at their requests was highly unprofessional. “Is that the extent of the grand admiral’s will, Mr. Grimes?”

“Not even close.” As it turns out, Thrawn also left her his Coruscant residence, under the (now scrapped) condition she allow Rukh to remove all items made of Chiss technology from the property. Rukh’s death (and lack of legal heirs) meant Faro was given the chance to claim his share of the will as well. Sadly, most of what Thrawn had set aside for him had already been declared lost in the fleet wreckage. As stated before, stakes in the corporation once tasked with building the TIE Defenders was split between Faro and Vanto. “Now there’s a stock that isn’t worth much nowadays. But it is yours, worth twenty percent of the company in total if you also claim this Vanto man’s share.”

“And if I only claim my own?”

“The Empire gains ownership of Vanto’s portion. The way this will and Imperial law are written, everything Grand Admiral Thrawn owned can be yours, Admiral. You are the only surviving beneficiary listed on his final will and testament.”

Not quite. Eli Vanto lived on, if outside the Empire’s jurisdiction. Faro could claim Vanto’s share as her own, then gift it to him the next time the two were in contact. That seemed like the best option given the circumstances. If only she knew how to contact him. 

“Well? Do you claim the grand admiral’s entire estate, as is your legal right given the circumstances?”

Faro nodded. “I claim it all.”

“Thought you might. It’s quite a nice estate, all things taken together. Did you know your old commander intended all these things for you?”

“No, I did not.”

“You must be quite excited.”

Faro recoiled at the suggestion, losing her composure. “Absolutely not! I would much rather Thrawn still be alive... he and the rest of his fleet, that is. They were honorable soldiers. I served with many of them for several years. None of them deserved such a disgraceful end.”

“...Of course.” Was that suspicion on Grimes’s pudgy face? Whatever it was, it cleared away in a second. “Well, I suppose this isn’t that odd of an arrangement, given that the grand admiral claimed no family. Other soldiers in his situation tend to donate to military academies, however.”

“Grand Admiral Thrawn had no fondness for Imperial training academies nor experience with any planetary institutions.” Faro mused almost to herself. She looked back up before continuing. “Do I have to sign anything to claim my inheritance?”

“I will send the datawork to you now. Don’t forget to consult a taxation attorney in the near future. Once you sign the relevant documents, the transfer of credits will take a few days. Anything in or attached to the will will be available for your perusal instantly. You will have to change the deed on the Coruscant property within a year, so don’t forget to file for a change. Ah, and don’t forget to….” More legal instructions followed after that, but Faro tuned Grimes out. 

She waited for him to pause, then cut their call short. “Thank you for calling, Mr. Grimes. I would like to review the will and datawork alone from this point forward. I will send the datawork back to you when I am done with it. You may file it, and with that, you will have fulfilled your obligations as the grand admiral’s probate attorney. Goodbye.”

“Uh- of course, Admiral Faro. I am… sorry for your loss. Truly.” Grimes ended the call. Faro checked the inbox on her datapad. Sure enough, the attorney had forwarded her the relevant attachments.

The first thing Faro did was pull up a copy of the will. She scrolled to the spot Grimes had read aloud, imagining the words in Thrawn’s voice as she reviewed his final advice. Faro scanned the page over and over until she could recite his words from memory. It was as if he stood right next to her, all but whispering his suggestions into her ear.

Faro gulped. She shouldn’t torture herself like this. She forced herself to move on, making sure the attorney hadn’t forgotten to mention anything to her. When she reached the comment about artwork and her eyes, Faro had to bite back tears.

Thrawn always liked Faro’s eyes. He never missed a chance to tell her so in private. No matter how often she reminded him they weren’t special. Thrawn insisted he saw more than just color and shape. He claimed he saw depth behind them, wisdom and intelligence and clarity all in one. While his eyes shone outward, Faro’s eyes drew the light inward, making stares between them a meeting of component parts. 

Faro loved to look at Thrawn when he studied art. It was in those moments his eyes glowed the brightest. His face and body relaxed, but behind his eyes, his mind was on full alert. When that happened, Faro would turn to the piece he was studying and try to discern what had caught his attention. It wasn’t until Thrawn explained his interpretations to her that her own expression would light up. 

At least, at first. The longer Faro engaged in these exercises with Thrawn, the sooner she was able to notice patterns within and between works. In more recent months, it had not been uncommon for the pair to take turns examining pieces. One would analyze the art. The other would analyze their partner.

Those nights… they’d felt so mundane at the time. For all the intimacy Thrawn claimed he felt in those moments, Faro had mostly just associated them with their work. Now the memories were precious.

When an artist of even minor renown died, their work appreciated in value. Knowing the galaxy would never receive another masterpiece made people treasure their existing creations more. Faro was familiar with the principle. She just wished she hadn’t applied it to the man she loved.

It had been hard enough leaving Thrawn after her promotion. For all her itching to advance in the ranks, Faro knew it would come at a cost. Her only consolation had been the understanding that their distance was only physical. She could still contact Thrawn whenever their schedules allowed it. They would still see each other at meetings. Now that they didn’t work on the same ship anymore, there’d even been talk of taking shore leave together in the near future. Given that Thrawn had only taken mandatory leave up to that point, his last promise had been especially significant to her. It was a sign their relationship could be more than hidden smiles and private trysts. They could love each other somewhat openly, nothing but meaningless gossip trying to shove them back into the shadows.

Faro thought her dreams had come true when she assumed command of the Eleventh Fleet. But just as the gap between her and Thrawn appeared, fate widened its distance to far beyond the physical. Just as Faro entered the next phase of her life, her previous one disintegrated behind her.

Thrawn was gone. Hammerly was gone. Woldar and Pyrondi and Carvia, all gone. Everyone Faro had grown used to greeting every day on the  _ Chimaera,  _ every captain and lieutenant and ensign of every ship in the fleet was gone. Every stormtrooper, every pilot, every enlisted officer, every mechanic and technician and supply officer, every medbay physician and examiner… all of them. Gone. 

Faro was carved hollow inside. Her mind couldn’t comprehend the sheer magnitude of loss it experienced in those moments. There were years of memories that now only she possessed. Millions of little experiences that only she lived to tell the tale of. And the only reason she’d survived was because she’d been assigned a new post at the last possible moment. Luck, essentially.

Overwhelmed by the loss of thousands, her mind concentrated back on the loss of one. The loss of Grand Admiral Thrawn. 

Suddenly, Faro wasn’t hollow anymore. Instead, she was filled with pain that tears did nothing to dislodge. Her insides stung with bitterness and sadness and fury, but the harshest pain was her numbest one: the acute sensation of loneliness that leaned on one side of her heart. In that moment, she would do anything to feel like Thrawn was with her again. Even if just for a minute.

So Faro pulled up the art attachments on her holodisplay, paying special attention to the ones Thrawn recommended for her quarters. For the entrance: a Mandalorian battle scene, meant to depict the height of strength and valor among House Vizsla during their ancient campaign against the Jedi. Not much further in, Thrawn recommended a scene from the Clone Wars in which criminal Jedi Master Mace Windu rallied with Twi’leks in the Battle of Lessu. How that rendering had survived Imperial censorship after the Clone Wars’ conclusion, Faro did not know. What she did know was that the orange Twi’lek to Windu’s left was Cham Syndulla, father of a Rebel Alliance general and terrorist in his own right.

Faro remembered both pieces. Thrawn had bought them as a reminder of his enemies. Faro thought it strange Thrawn would want to be reminded of the Phoenix Squadron (or, more generally, the Mandalorian civil war and Free Ryloth Movement) in private settings, especially when some days that’s all he thought about during his shift as well. At least he hadn’t recommended her any of Sabine Wren’s pieces… yet. The only use Faro had for works by that artist was marksmanship practice.

The rest of the pieces did not relate to rebels in any direct manner. One sculpture Thrawn suggested for her desk was a miniature figurine of Lady Vonliss, a female soldier from Faro’s home planet. Lady Vonliss had lived millenia ago at a time when only men could be drafted for war. When she heard the king summon her injured father off to battle, she stole his armor and took his place on the front. She spent years on the battlefield, earning much renown for her skill and strategy. It wasn’t until the king offered her his daughter’s hand in marriage that she revealed her true identity and returned home, bestowing all the honors and noble titles she’d won onto her bewildered father. 

Faro had loved the story as a child, and she loved the sculpture because it was one of the few that focused on Lady Vonliss’s strength as a warrior instead of sexualizing her. Thrawn knew all this, of course. Faro’s praise for the work as he was examining it was the reason he’d bought the piece in the first place. 

When Faro reached the bedroom section of Thrawn’s arrangement ideas, the theme of the pieces changed. Most outside her sleeping quarters had ongoing war contained somewhere within their subject matter, but the first piece he recommended for her was of a weary soldier coming home to his wife. The two stood locked in an embrace, eyes only for each other. Thrawn had bought it shortly after he and Faro began their romantic relationship. He’d kept it in his own bedroom, just above the bed he and Faro had so often shared.

Faro refused to display that piece anywhere. She didn’t want to be caught aspiring to a future she’d never have.

Another suggestion Thrawn had for her sleeping quarters was a portrait of a nude Selonian. He’d been fascinated with the rarity of such an item (Selonians placed an extremely high value on their privacy) and paid a hefty sum for the privilege of ownership. Faro remembered she hadn’t been close to Thrawn when he bought it. At the time, she’d thought he was irresponsible for spending all his disposable income on a painting. Honored as she was that Thrawn wanted her to have one of his favorite pieces so near her, she had no interest in looking at a naked Selonian every night.

The last piece Thrawn suggested for her sleeping quarters, the one he wished she hung over her headboard, was Lysatran in origin. As far as Faro knew, this piece was the only example of an artist outside the Unknown Regions using Chiss people as their main subject. In it stood two male Chiss arranged back to back in a fighting stance. They fought off a horde of giant wolves with only their fists while three bewildered humans hid in the background. According to Vanto, the painting was reminiscent of an old legend the Lysatran people told to describe the strength of Chiss warriors. Thrawn insisted the story was inaccurate, but he’d still been flattered to see the tale memorialized in art. 

Faro had mixed feelings about the painting now. On the one hand, the image of powerful Chiss soldiers fighting off hungry animals was prophetic to the point of uncanniness. Looking at it reminded Faro of Thrawn’s last moments. She felt overwhelmed by proxy. On the other hand, the legend said the pair of Chiss had succeeded in their fight against the pack of wolves, a true show of strength. The thought of letting powerful Chiss warriors watch over her as she slept was comforting. Neither Chiss in the painting looked like Thrawn (the artist had also never seen a real Chiss, so anatomy was slightly off), but the connection was obvious. 

Faro didn’t know what beliefs Thrawn held about death and the afterlife. He’d never been specific when she asked. He had known, however, that it was a common belief on Faro’s home planet that the dead watched over those they’d been close to in life. Families kept portraits of their dead relatives in the house with the belief that the departed could see and hear anything that happened in front of their picture. 

Thrawn had never commissioned an official portrait of himself. He despised having his image displayed in reports or on the holonews. This painting was the closest Faro was going to get for a window to his spirit. Now she had to ask herself: was that a tradition she wanted to uphold? Did she want to keep Thrawn’s spirit close to her as she continued her fight? Did she even believe in such a thing?

No one was likely to enter the admiral’s sleeping quarters. Faro doubted anyone would ever see the painting. Even if they did, how would they know she was using it as a superstitious attempt at finding comfort? It wasn’t wrong to keep mementos of the past. No one had ever criticized Faro for keeping images of her family and friends in her living space. Even now, she had an image of her, Woldar, Hammerly, and Pyrondi on her desk.

So no, no one else was likely to think her decorations were a sign of weakness. But what did Faro think? Surely some amount of grief was acceptable in her circumstances. Yet at the same time, she had just assumed command of the Eleventh Fleet. Her crew barely knew her. She didn’t want their first impression of her to be of someone who couldn’t handle war’s tragedies. She had to set an example for her subordinates, one of strength and resilience. If Faro cried herself to sleep, she couldn’t let them know. She couldn’t afford herself too much weakness lest some of it shine through.

In the end, it came down to one concern: would keeping Thrawn’s spirit close bring her strength or weakness? The image he’d left for her was one of power, but did it make her feel powerful? Did she see herself among the painting’s warriors or with its crouching observers? Never did she consider that the observers could be more than just fearful bystanders.

As she studied the painting, Faro began to wonder about the relationship between the two Chiss. The way their stances matched and their punches landed in sync suggested the pair were meant to be close. Perhaps they had fought alongside each other for a long time. Although… given their extreme similarity in appearance, two things were possible. Either the artist was insecure in his portrayal of Chiss and didn’t want to include variation in the warriors’ appearances, or the Chiss were meant to be related. Faro wished she could remember if the legend told of their relationship, but she wasn’t sure if Vanto had mentioned it, or even knew. 

Thrawn had called them brothers once. Faro had asked him what gave him that impression, and it was one of the only times he backtracked on an assumption without explanation. He admitted he had no evidence and never approached the subject again in his analysis. Thinking back, Faro was pretty sure she knew why Thrawn had said what he did. Before he was exiled and considered dead to his family, Thrawn had had an older brother. Faro didn’t know his name or anything about him, just that Thrawn was convinced he was the inferior son by comparison. 

It felt wrong to think that Thrawn had died so far away from his family. No matter what he claimed on Imperial documents, he did  _ have _ relatives. Even if they’d disowned him, they deserved to know how he’d lived and died. Former comrades like Admiral Ar’alani had a right to know as well. 

Deciding with no evidence that the Chiss to the left was Thrawn, Faro directed her comments towards him. “I will contact the Chiss Ascendancy on your behalf. If your people need an ally in the Empire… they have me. Vanto will receive the items you left for him. He… he deserves to know how much you cared about him. I… I hope your family regrets casting you away. I hope they honor you the way they would any other family member. However the Chiss honor their dead, you… you deserve the honor.”

Faro gasped, tears welling up in her eyes. Her chest shriveled from heaving. Her throat stung as if she’d swallowed shards of glass. She felt ridiculous, but nothing she told herself was enough to make the sensations stop. She needed Thrawn to stay with her just a little longer. She needed to talk to him one last time.

“I will continue the fight. I will protect the Empire from those rebels who would destroy it. I won’t let them destroy another fleet. If I have to hunt and kill every last purrgil in the galaxy, it will be worth it. I swear on the memory of the Seventh Fleet that there will be no mercy.

“I will avenge your death, just… please. Please help me. I’m not… not ready to let you go.” Faro collapsed on the display, shoulders shaking. She kept the painting’s holoimage on display as she cried, her uniform sleeves soaking up the tears so they didn’t fall on the machine.

First order of business tomorrow: order that painting shipped to her quarters. Back on the  _ Chimaera _ , Faro’s best nights of sleep had been with Thrawn by her side. Maybe once he rested above her sleep would come again.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for the heavy subject matter. I do have lighter ideas for this ship as well, but all my other outlines at the moment are for multichapter fics, and this one is a one shot. I hope it's not too melodramatic. I wrote it in stages because I would depress myself working on this fic. Hope you enjoyed the angst, everyone!
> 
> Also: some the art pieces are references to draculard's fics. The Selonian nude comes from his fic "Faro's Mom Has Got it Going On" and the Lysatran mythology surrounding the Chiss is also a subject he mentions in "Large Everything". Sorry, meant to include that in the first upload of my notes. Both are good fics. Much lighter in tone than this one.


End file.
